This Fight's Fixed
by December Winds
Summary: The Psych office ressembles a bomb site. There are bullets in the wall. There's a bullet in Shawn. So why is Gus in an interrogation room? Response to My Worst Fear challenge by gooie chocolatechip cookie5 over on psychfic.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Dedicated to SydneyWoo who wanted a fic where Gus hurt Shawn... and he has... sort of :D _

_I owe my life to BringOnTheRain for the amazingly quick amazing beta-ing. Words can't describe her almost painful awesomness. Also thanks to Tazmy who allowed me to throw possibly titles and summaries at her :D _

_The challenge did require I write from Gus's POV... Well I did... sort of. Just not in first person, so I hope this is forgiven (: _

Gus sighed with frustration. He was going to kill Shawn. Actually kill him. No, scratch that. Hang, draw_ and _quarter him. Then burn the remains. Then resurrect him and apologise... and then re-kill him. He trudged toward Psych, giving himself more time to plan Shawn's slaying, whilst holding his _ruined_ two-hundred dollar dress jacket. The jacket was now complete with bright yellow pinstripes that smelled suspiciously like pineapple. Even if it was probably accidental, he was still livid.

He swore his eye twitched somewhere in his journey to confront the idiot he decided to call his best friend. He leaves a perfectly good coat in Shawn's sight for an _hour..._

Reaching the office front he was slightly put out to see that the front door was already open, the handle hanging limply, as if forced open. Gus' shoulders sagged in defeat. If this was down to Shawn as well because he forgot forgetting his keys or something, he was just going to... but then again, this wasn't Shawn's sort of thing. Gus pushed down the growing apprehension as he brushed the inside door handle gently with his palm, frowning at it, then looking around the office in growing horror. It was as if a bomb had been dropped – papers littered the room, the plasma screen had been smashed right in the middle in a shape of a... bullet hole? The main light in the centre of the ceiling's bulb had been smashed so the room was weakly illuminated by the pale moon outside. As he stepped further inside, his toe hit something solid and heavy. Frowning, unable to see it in the darkness, he reached down and brushed the floor with his fingertips until his hand curled around the object. It was small, but surprisingly heavy. He brought it closer to his face, and almost dropped it in more of a surprise than he should have felt considering the amount of bullet damage evident in the office. He laid it quickly on the side, and looked around feeling quite scared now. What if they were still here? What had happened?

"Shawn!" He yelled, stepping towards his desk, "Shawn! If you're messing around here, I will _kill _you..." he said, the fear in his gut escalating. "Shawn!"  
The next thing he heard was so quiet, so low, it was almost indistinguishable. Gus would have missed it if he hadn't had been so close to the source.

"Gus."

Gus jumped at his name and peered around, now aiming his eyes at the ground, "Shawn! Where are you?"

"Here."

Rolling his eyes at the uselessness of the statement, he resigned himself to following his friend's voice, crawling on all fours a few steps before feeling a soft brush of material from Shawn's trousers. He ran it up his leg slightly to get a further understanding of where he was.

"Dude... are you.... feeling me up"

Gus choked and withdrew his hand sharply. "I was just seeing where you were, Shawn!"

"Well you already... found me... didn't need to..." he was cut off by a sharp intake of breath as Gus' hand landed on his chest firmly as he misplaced his movements.

"Sorry... I can't see a thing back here, the light's cut off from the window 'cause of the desk." Gus explained apologetically. "Are you hurt?" he asked, just as he felt a slick wetness between his fingers. He could just about make out the outline of Shawn's face in the darkness as he lifted his head up weakly.

"...take advantage," Shawn completed his previous sentence before his head lolled back onto the floor with a light thump.

Gus felt his heart jump to his throat. Shawn!" he tapped his friend's face lightly. "Shawn!"

_Reviews are much appreciated :D _


	2. Chapter 2

_I owe my absolute SANITY to SydneyWoo who is awesome anyway but also beta-d super quick and even posted for me... So THANK YOU _

_And thank you for all the lovely reviews. I get stupidly happy every time I see a review alert :D_

Paramedics swarmed the office like moths attracted to the light that was Shawn. In all the hectic commotion of pressure on the wound, vitals being read and the hurry to transfer the psychic to a gurney, Gus found himself being pushed away; almost backing up against the wall as he watched the scene unfold with wide eyes.

It still hadn't truly sunk in that his best friend was lying in the middle of Psych's floor, in a pool of crimson blood glinting dully like rough rubies in the pale moonlight - Gus almost expected to wake up at any moment. Closing his eyes tightly, blocking out the ever increasing urgency in the medics' voices, the slightly muffled groans underneath a hissing oxygen mask… he imagined himself waking up in his apartment this morning, this all having been a horrible nightmare. Shawn in his kitchen, sitting with the curtains still drawn having cut up his last pineapple, grinning sheepishly, his mouth full of fruit.

Gus chanced opening one eye slowly, hoping to see the inviting magnolia of his bedroom ceiling… But no such luck as the office swam into view. The enormity of what was going on suddenly hit him as solidly as any bullet and he found himself now bracing against the wall as a means of support and undertaking some form of Lamaze breathing.

He became oblivious to everything that was happening around him – more sirens mixing with the already present sounds of the ambulances waiting outside. The slamming of the doors as a team of police officers lead by Lassiter and Juliet spilt into the room, a few stopping short as they realized the identity of the victim. Even Lassiter seemed to pale empathically at the sight of Shan's ever-whitening body. The only thing to snap Gus out of his revere was a muffled voice from the only source he could truly focus on. Shawn. Everything around him seemed to grey out with his friend in the center of the madness like a pale light.

"Gus?"

Gus' head snapped up to look at Shawn, now safely secured on the gurney that had been brought in without Gus really realizing. From the corner of his eye, Gus noticed it seemed to take all of Juliet's self control not to rush over to Shawn in his place rather than do her job, but she resisted the urge as Gus began to move. He stepped slowly and carefully, avoiding the debris and cautious not to get in the way of officers collecting evidence until he reached his friend's side.

As if sensing Gus' fear and trepidation, Shawn reached up and knocked the oxygen mask down so it hung loosely around his chin. He reached up with the same shaking fist to Gus with a pacifying look I his dull eyes. Gus almost sobbed at the gesture, feeling an over-whelming surge of protectiveness – here he was panicking whilst Shawn seemed the calmest in the room… which worried Gus even further. A bitching Shawn was a happy Shawn.

He curled his equally shaking hand into a fist and brushed Shawn's knuckles lightly; honestly fearing anything more solid would shatter the psychic before his eyes.

He slipped his hand gently around his friends' before lowering his head to Shawn's for a few seconds to convince himself more than anything that Shawn was still alive. He could feel the shallow breaths on his neck and the eyes boring into his own as Shawn gave him a look as if to say 'You're such a worry wart Gus, but I'll humor you just this once.'

Still trembling with fear and adrenaline, he fixed the mask back in place over Shawn's mouth and nose, glancing at him disapproving when Shawn rolled his eyes at him. Gus fully intended to follow the medics to the ambulance but was stopped as Lassiter grabbed his arm.

"Guster," he said in a low voice, almost apologetically, "You know how it goes. You're a key witness."  
Gus sighed. He knew. He found Shawn. He may have seen something of use. Police procedure. But he was saved by Juliet.

"Carlton…" she said, taking in Gus' form, looking as if he was going to collapse at any moment, "It can wait."

Lassiter didn't look happy about it, but Juliet turned away from him firmly; "We'll talk at the hospital, ok?" she said softly, "Come on, we'll give you a ride."

Gus looked at her gratefully, a little edgy to leave the office before the ambulance went without him.  
"Thanks, Juliet, but…" he glanced towards the window where he could see Shawn being loaded into the ambulance.

Juliet raised a hand to stop him, looking unsure but faltering at Gus' desperate look, "Go ahead, we'll be right behind you."

Gus shot out the room to the technicians, exchanging short words with them before climbing into the back with Shawn. He missed Lassiter's frustrated and annoyed look at his partner who looked equally as uncomfortable.

She'd probably pay for that one later.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Gus stumbled into the back of the ambulance in a daze, Shawn was slipping in and out of awareness. He sat by him as much as he could without getting in the paramedics' way, focusing on Shawn's flickering eyes as he tried to stay awake.

"Sir, do you know of any allergies he has?" Gus almost missed what the woman was saying to him. He looked at her blankly before he registered what she was saying.

"No...I... He's never had any..."

She patted his shoulder and injected something into Shawn's IV port. _Probably pain killers, _Gus realised as Shawn's eyes fluttered closed and his face relaxed. The paramedic moved and Gus resumed his vigilance by his friend.

"Is he gonna be ok?" He asked the paramedic, not quite meeting her eyes, almost fearing the answer.

She gave him a strained smile, "He should be."

Gus was about to question her sincerity, when a sudden choked gasping noise from the gurney burnt away the thought like a fire cracker of fear. He turned back to Shawn, whose eyes were now wide open, gasping for breath like a fish caught out of water.

"What's happening?"

The woman grabbed the stethoscope hanging from the railing above the gurney and pressed it against Shawn's rapidly moving chest, "Dammit," she muttered, "I think it nicked his lung."

Gus' vision swam, "What?"

His breathing quickened, almost to match Shawn as the reality of the situation hit him – a hole in the lung meant his lung could collapse, and that combined with blood loss.... Though he had every faith it was fixable, and the rational part of his mind still running told him Shawn would probably be fine. But what about other variables? God only knows how long Shawn was left on his own before Gus found him. How much blood had he lost? What about infection?

He looked down as something brushed his arm weakly. Shawn was reaching out a hand to him, but this time it wasn't in a comforting gesture. Panic was evident on his face as he struggled to draw in breath, regardless of whatever the paramedic had injected into his system, and groped almost blindly for some form of anchor to the real world. All thought ceased as Gus gently took his hand, and Shawn immediately calmed down, though still struggled for air.

They remained this way, as if in their own personal bubble until they reached the hospital.

All in all, Henry Spencer had had a good day. It was a gorgeous day, and he'd spent the morning and most of the afternoon fishing in the glory of solitude on the Californian waves. He'd then spent the rest of it at home, with nothing that really had to be done. He'd gotten Shawn to (begrudgingly) clear out the attic the previous day, everything was miraculously tidy and as he'd skipped breakfast and eaten lunch on the boat, there was no washing up to do. He hadn't seen Shawn all day, and as much as he loved his son, one day without Shawn was a day without arguments or being semi-hired-without-any-form-of-pay back into the police service. Even his back wasn't complaining as much as usual. He had even decided to risk his completely stress free day by inviting Shawn over for dinner – an impessive catch from earlier that day.

Though admittedly, his record of non-stress was, of course, broken the minute he decided to invite his son over. Gritting his teeth, he glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes late. He couldn't leave the fish in any longer – Shawn would just have to heat his up or something. He was dishing the last of the boiled potatoes onto the plates when the phone rang next to him. He sighed, dropping his oven gloves onto the counter. If that was Shawn with one of his flimsy excuses for his lateness, or inability to attend at all, then... well let's just say that he was sure he couldn't be held responsible for any actions he was forced to take.

"Hello?" He almost barked down the phone. Funny how his stress levels went through the roof whenever his son was involved. And he'd been having such a good day...

"Mr. Henry Spencer?" A woman said on the end of the line. All the anger in Henry replaced the stomach that jumped to his mouth.

"Yes?"

"Is your son..." a pause, as if she were checking something, "Shawn Spencer?"

Henry closed his eyes briefly, "Yes it is. What's happened?" he asked, almost knowing the answer.

"This is Goleta Valley Cottage hospital, your son was admitted just a few moments ago. His friend said we should contact you as..."

She never got to finish her sentence as Henry had dropped the phone and grabbed his keys, leaving the fish and any anger towards Shawn behind in the kitchen.

Gus ran alongside the gurney as far as he could, until a doctor firmly pushed him to one side, breaking Shawn's tight grip on his hand. Gus sighed and leaned back against the wall and watched as his friend was rushed through the doors and out of sight, his eyes still darting around the room, taking in everything as the hospital rushed past in a white blur. As soon as the doors Shawn was wheeled through closed, everything seemed to catch up on him at once and he let himself slide to the floor, honestly not caring or noticing that his dress jacket had slipped completely from his arms onto the floor. It was a hospital, so the floor would be clean right?  
He shook his head, sending the irrational thoughts scattering.

He'd destroy a hundred dress jackets worth any amount of money if it meant Shawn would be ok.

"Gus?" Juliet's hand lightly brushed his shoulder. Lassiter was hovering uncomfortably in the background. When did they get here? He looked up at her pale face and allowed a light film of guilt to cover his worry. Juliet was probably almost as scared as him. Almost.

"Gus, how is he?" Juliet was asking.

He blinked at her, "Er... the bullet... it hit his lung. They said something about a puncture?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to coherently speak everything rolling around in his mind, "He's lost a lot of blood. They just took him into surgery."

Juliet looked at Gus with worried eyes, "And how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Gus looked at the reception desk distractedly, "I'd better go fill out his paperwork... get them to call his dad."

She nodded, still looking at him with concern. She walked back to stand back with Lassiter, "How are we going to tell him?"

Lassiter frowned, "Are you going to take this too personally?"

Juliet neutralised her expression, "No." And with that she moved once again back over to Gus and waited until he had finished filling out the papers, "Gus? We're going to have to ask you a few questions now." She said softly, sympathetically.

Gus exhaled deeply and nodded, "Ok."

Juliet led Gus to one of the waiting room seats and Lassiter pulled up a chair next to his partner, pulling out a notepad and pen.

"Start from the beginning."


End file.
